Dead Carolina
by X-Hayze-chan-X
Summary: Rated T for dark themes and implied character death. Songfic to Dead Carolina by Wednesday 13.


**A/N: I was listening to this song, Dead Carolina by Wednesday 13, and when I heard the word ghosts I thought to myself "Danny Phantom." I have no idea why, but this fic just came so naturally to me. It had to be written. **

**They're an amazing band, you should check them out. I personally suggest listening to this song whilst reading the fic. **

**Also, I left their deaths up to your imagination. **

**I'm in a hurry, so no long spiel from me. Just enjoy, and please tell me what you think! This was written very quickly. **

**Hasta la pasta~**

_**Trying to see through this death that I breathe,**__**  
><strong>__**All these ghosts they are lost in front of me,**__**  
><strong>__**Lost in a trance, never had the chance,**__**  
><strong>__**Now we're forced to walk the Dead's dance.**_

Danny wandered the Ghost Zone, looking at the other lost souls with a mixture of pity and regret. This place, so bright green, was blinding. All he could see was Death, and it seemed as if the air that he breathed was Death as well. These people were just that: people. There was nothing wrong with them, nothing truly evil about them. It was wrong, so very wrong, to call them evil. They were merely lost. Their deaths were mostly tragic. Most of them only existed now because they were cheated out of their lives. Their chance to do this or that.

It was kind of pathetic, in a way. They were so lost, so stuck on their Ghostly Obsessions, that they were almost in a trance. There was nothing for them to see through the suffocating veil of Death and Obsession and Hate, entranced in their self-pity, self-loathing. Death. That was all there ever was at the end of everything. It was the end, the beginning. It was everything and nothing, especially to the ghosts. They were forced into this horrible half-existence, only a physical manifestation of their anger, a shell of what they once were. They could never move on. They could never be at peace.

For some reason, he'd always known that this was what awaited him at his own death.

_**Everything is gray now,**__**  
><strong>__**Ashes all across the floor,**__**  
><strong>__**And I'm just hoping that I find  
>The key to unlock this door.<strong>_

When it had finally happened, he woke up to a world completely devoid of colour. All he saw was grey. How long had he been here? How long would he be here? Where was 'here' anyway? His head was spinning and he was plagued with questions. The first thing he did was stand up. He was glad there was a floor… But he couldn't touch it. Panicking slightly, he tried to change back to human form, but to no avail.

He was full ghost.

He pushed down his panic and tried desperately to recall the events of his death, but there was nothing that came to mind. Looking around the strange room, he saw that the floor was covered with ashes. That was… odd. There! He spotted a door and rushed toward it, but it was locked. He smashed into it, unable to phase through it. How was he supposed to get out? There must be some sort of key… He just hoped that he would be able to find it.

_**And you know that I'm trying,**__**  
><strong>__**To make my way through the art of dying,**__**  
><strong>__**And I'm trying so hard to find ya,**__**  
><strong>__**In this dead Carolina.**_

When he finally found the key, he felt liberated for a second. Only a second, however, because he realized soon that there was nowhere to go. He looked around, and heard a voice behind him. He whirled around to see a ghost, and charged up his ecto-blasts before realizing that this was not a foe. The ghost looked a lot like the Ghostwriter, except that he wore a beret and carried art supplies. He wisely compared dying to art. Everyone did it differently, and some people were never able to finish their masterpieces. The ghosts were these people. Dying was an art, and they just couldn't make their way through it.

He started to recall bits and pieces of his death after the strange ghost left, and it frightened him. Where was Dani? He had to find her no matter what. Frantically, he flew through the area. It was the Dead version of South Carolina, his home. A Dead Carolina. How odd. There was no time to think of that, however, as he was trying his hardest to find his cousin. What had become of her?

_**Shadows they fall off the walls in the halls,**__**  
><strong>__**And it lays out a path for the dead to walk,**__**  
><strong>__**Nothing to say, we're all lost in our ways,**__**  
><strong>__**Now the dead and decayed march in this dark parade**_.

The shadows in the Ghost Zone were eerie. They seemed to fall off of the walls instead of on them, and the entire place was like a maze full of dark hallways. He was slightly afraid, but more because of the fact that he was actually kind of comfortable here.

The ghosts he ran into had nothing to say to him. Nothing to say to anyone, it seemed. They were all lost, in their own different ways. It was like a parade. A dark, frightening parade that you had to join if you couldn't die properly. The dead and the decayed, they all marched there, through these dark and depressing halls.

_**Everything is gray now,**__**  
><strong>__**Ashes all across the floor,**__**  
><strong>__**And I'm just hoping that I find  
>The key to unlock this door.<strong>_

This hallway, too, was grey. Was it only vibrant green in some areas, or was it only vibrant green to those fortunate enough to not have to walk through it for eternity? It was all grey now, and he saw the ashes again. Did they symbolize something? He shuddered, trying to keep this thought out of his mind, but he couldn't help but think… could it be Danielle?

There was another door, and for some reason he knew that there were some semblance of answers on the other side. But where was the key? Why was so much of this wretched afterlife out of his reach? It wasn't fair. He needed to find her, to make sure she was safe.

_**And you know that I'm trying,**__**  
><strong>__**To make my way through the art of dying,**__**  
><strong>__**And I'm trying so hard to find ya,**__**  
><strong>__**In this dead Carolina.**_

Would she be able to find her way? Perhaps she wasn't all ghost? Perhaps she had moved on, had finished her masterpiece, had made her way through the art known as Death? Part of him hoped so, hoped that she wouldn't lead this wretched existence for eternity. Part of him, however selfish it may be, wished for her company. Wished that he didn't have to be alone.

He would search for eternity, go to the ends of the Earth, to Hell and back if he had to. He was trying his very hardest to find Dani. He had to find her. This Dead Carolina was no place for her to be alone. No place for him to be alone. No place for either of them to be.

_**D.E.A.D. Carolina.**_

He might never find her. Like all ghosts, he wouldn't realize his obsession as an obsession. He would just know that he had to do something. Finding Danielle was his Ghostly Obsession, and it would keep him there for the rest of eternity. He would slowly go mad, the voices chanting in his head.

_**D.E.A.D. Carolina…**_


End file.
